


of broken timeways and displaced mages

by lost_frequencies



Category: World of Warcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:26:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_frequencies/pseuds/lost_frequencies
Summary: Former Farstrider ranger Jetista exiles herself to an island where Time itself has ceased to exist. Her daily routine consists of offering precious memories to keep an enchanted forest alive and waiting to be forgotten by the rest of the world. Until Chromie shows up with a grieving boy-mage from a distant, defunct timeline claiming to be the son of a powerful archmage she had once loved.Canon divergence AU. OC/Canon relationships.





	1. PART ONE

**i.**

“Miss Jet,” called the jinyu in his most gentle tone. “Captain Catelyn has summoned us all on the Neptulon’s Bride. The ship is fully repaired and we will soon be making sail back to the Eastern Kingdoms.”

He had spent hours searching for the elf, only to find her sitting in seiza in the middle of a clearing, her short swords resting by her side as she gazed upon the entrance to the forest. Resting in the palm of her hand was a gemstone; a sought-after artifact she had planned on returning since the day it was stolen from the dead Aspect Malygos’s lair.

“The Blackwater Raiders can leave without me. My mission is almost done.”

Confused, the jinyu warrior kneeled alongside her, his eyes glinting in the rays of warm light as he patiently waited for the elven rogue to continue, “It was no coincidence that we were shipwrecked here on the Isle,” she said. “The dragons have planned for this to happen. They knew the timestone would find its way back eventually.”

“What is the timestone?”

“The only thing that’s needed to restore balance to this island. As soon as I’ve returned the artifact to its rightful place, the sun will set. The animals will sleep.”

“Then comes the healing of this world…” added the jinyu.

A forlorn smile crossed Jet’s face. “Slowly, but surely, yes. This timeline is destined for greater things.”

“You are an honourable soul, Miss Jet. The Universe will reward you for your selfless deeds.”

“Except that I am not the honourable, selfless person you think me to be, Xue. I deserve what I’ve become. No longer can I find any reason to carry on.”

“Miss Jet. I do not like where you’re going with this.”

“My journey ends here, with the timestone. This is where I will remain for as long as this timeline deems my presence irrelevant.”

“I-I cannot accept this,” said the jinyu. He took the elf’s hands in his, squeezing them tight. “You are far too important to us, to me, to disconnect yourself from this world. You cannot let the ways of the Isle influence your thoughts. You must fight the current. Do not succumb to the stream of timelessness.”

Jet exhaled, tears rolling in rivulets down her face. Her fel-tainted eyes appeared dim, glazed over with bittersweet sorrow. “This forest. It feeds on good memories. It carries the burden that you cannot anymore. It takes care of things that you can no longer do yourself.”

“Miss Jet…” Xue leaned closer, letting their foreheads touch, an act of intimacy rarely shared with those outside the jinyu race.

“You are one of my best memories, dearest Xue. You will be what makes this forest alive. Untouched by the Legion’s corruption. As the sun sets and the night falls, I will rest in the memory of those I have loved dearly, knowing that their paths have been restored. This timeline insists that I become a slave to my demonic thirst, but I refuse to let that happen. I refuse to be a monster. So if you truly love me, let me relinquish my existence and open a new timeway to freedom. Perhaps, in another lifetime. We’ll meet again.”

Soon the cold air swept between the jinyu’s fingers, replacing the warmth of another’s touch that was once there.

Xue looked up, feeling his heart shattering to pieces.

Jetista was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**ii.**

_Jetista’s memories might have faded away, but her body would not lie._

_There was no denying the maternal instincts that had kicked in the moment she took the wailing orc child from his dead mother’s embrace._

_They were among Horde mercenaries, caught up in a bloody skirmish with fel-corrupted warriors at Gul'dan’s behest._

_“Ey, Jet. A little help here?” pleaded the troll. “Yuh be picking da wrong time to nurse a fucking baby, mon!”_

_“Leave the child!” growled the undead. “What reason is there to keep it alive?!”_

_Jetista ignored them. The mercenaries were but a few left and greatly outnumbered._

_Despite the inevitable doom, the elf remained seated in the corner of their hideout, unarmed, undressed, her engorged breast exposed._

_She had thought this to be her last moment and the least she could do was to keep her only survivor fully sated._

_The elf could not describe the relief she felt, the sense of calm and heart-wrenching familiarity of having a child pressed against her body._

_Fel magic razed the outpost. Her comrades did not survive._

_Then came the sting of her enemy’s blade grazed across her neck._

_“Surrender,” an eredar spoke, forcing the elf to look up._

_“I would rather die.”_

_The enemy laughed._

_Jetista’s only regret was not seeing the smile on the child’s face before everything went dark._


	3. Chapter 3

**iii.**

“That’s quite a memory to begin with,” sounded a familiar voice behind her. Jetista turned, a wry smile forming across her face as she watched Chronormu approach the bioluminescent trees in her gnomish guise.

“It’s not exactly one of my best, but he’s the first that came to mind. Never a day goes by without me wondering if that child is still alive.”

Then all it took was the bronze’s poignant expression to tell her of his demise. Jetista closed her eyes and sighed, before turning back to the tree to rest a hand on its glowing bark. “No matter. He’s alive here and will always be. With his mother.”

“How do you keeping doing that?” Chronormu asked.

“Do what?”

“Lying to yourself.”

“My entire life is an illusion. Nothing is ever true.”

“Hmm…you know…that makes an awful lot of sense. Truth never really matters. There’s a myriad of timelines and parallel dimensions with different outcomes. Who knows? Maybe he’s still out there, all grown up and living his life, with a family of his own.”

Jetista smiled. “That’s a very comforting thought. I can live with that.”

“You can have that too if you want. Really. Sure this timeline needs a lot of work but you’re destined for better things, Jet. I hope you’re not serious about wanting to erase yourself. That would entail considerable risks,  _maaaajor_  changes. Being irrelevant doesn’t make the pain go away. I’ve met five other versions of yourself and they’d all been self-destructive and suicidal. You’re the only one alive now. You can be different. You can be  _better_.”   

“Were five alternate versions of myself as hideous as I am? I don’t think so. I’m a monster, Chromie. Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

“Only on the outside! Who wants to look like an elf, anyway. They’re just a bunch of vainpots with floppy ears, big hair and big egos.”

“I just want to be myself again.” The elf paused. “Perhaps with lighter hair and a complexion as flawless as Slyvanas’s…before she died and became the  _Banshee_.”

“Heh. Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re being serious or sarcastic. Come on, stop being so angsty. You’re going to be fine. Everything will be alright. Now–you ready to see what this timestone’s capable of?”

“I’ve come this far. There’s no turning back now.”

“Oooh that reminds me! There’s a couple of young men I’d like you to meet. They should be here…right about now…”

“Chromie, this really isn’t the time.”

“There they are!” The gnome pointed in the direction of a chrono-portal opening. Two half-elves emerged. Jetista had assumed they were Chromie’s dragon friends in disguise but upon closer inspection, she couldn’t deny that one of them had borne too much of a striking resemblance to Gatz.

“Mother?” he spoke.

Tears pooled in Jetista’s eyes, her heart brimming with unspeakable joy.

“ _Bear._  Is that really you?”


	4. Chapter 4

**iv.**

“About five years ago, a civil war between the elves broke out. The Silver Covenant were forcing us out of Dalaran after a precious artifact was stolen. The Sunreavers, particularly Aethas, had been accused of treason. I lost so many friends that day. I couldn’t save them all. So I freed the dragonhawks and fled the city like the coward I was, took shelter in a cave and fell ill for days. I thought I was just devastated by what had happened but then a week later, a travelling shaman who’d stumbled upon the same cave one rainy day revealed that I was pregnant. With you.”  

Jetista tore her gaze away from the perpetual sunset and smiled at her son. He was a young half-elven man, eighteen years of age, with a thick head of dark hair and Gatz’s honey brown eyes. No stubble covered his angular face and his ears were as pointed as hers, albeit much shorter.

“I gave birth to you in a tavern owned by a black marketeer.” Jet chuckled to herself softly while reminiscing about the times they’d spent picking fruit and watching turtles basking by the blessed pools. “Do you remember that, Bear? Those nights we’ve feasted with the Pandarens at the monastery, the children you befriended, and the different shades and shapes of jade crystals we collected along the way home? Remember our hideout in the mountains–”

“And the designer cloaks and rows of vintage boots you had on display? Sure I do. I’ve visited the past more than once to take notice of every single item in your makeshift inventory.”

“I’m very proud of my cloaks and boots. You have no idea what I’ve been through to look this good. I’ll never allow myself to be caught dead in a pair of cloth sandals. Ugh. Who wears those?”

Bear laughed, a warm smile etched across his face as he watched the flowers bloomed around her with each precious memory.

“I keep pinching myself to be certain. That this isn’t an illusion. I’ve been on this island for Light knows how long and have lost track of time…I–I can’t tell what’s real anymore. But I just wanted you to know…that it wasn’t my intention to give you up. I never stopped looking. I keep hoping and praying you’d be alive and well.”

“I am as real as Time allows me to be. I may not be the son you know in your present timeline but I am living proof that your son will survive and grow up to be just fine. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. You’ve always been a good mother.”

“You never told me how you came to know Chromie. How did you get involved in all of this? Did the timestone bring you here?”

“It’s the Age of the Mortals, mother. The Bronze are in need of all the help they can get. I just happen to be at the wrong place at the right time. Have you not seen the Timewalkers scattered about the isle?”

“Is that what they’re called? The nerds with the infinity symbol on their tabards?”

“I’m one of those nerds. Along with Kyle, your other son from a different timeline.”

“This is just…this is a lot for me to take in…I’m still in shock…confused. I can’t fathom the existence of alternate versions of myself bearing children in different timelines. Just thinking about that is making me exhausted.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him? He’s been through a lot. Kyle’s own timeway was recently destroyed by an evil Khadgar.”

Jetista gave her son an incredulous look. “Evil, you say?” She snorted. “On a scale from one to a hundred, how evil is evil?”

“Diabolical,” a meek voice interjected from behind a tree. It was none other than Kyle who’d been listening in on their conversation. “He’s my dad.”


	5. Chapter 5

**v.**

“I’m sorry,” Jetista said. They had left the spot where she and Bear had been conversing before Kyle emerged from hiding. A moment of awkward silence fell between them as the boy walked alongside her toward the Courtyard, feigning interest in the dead flowers and leaves littering the pavement.

The elf couldn’t tell if Kyle was shy, or intimidated by her presence. Perhaps both. Then again, she wouldn’t expect much from someone who’d just lost his family and an entire world to the Old Gods.

“Sounds to me your father did everything he could to defend his timeline. Although I have to admit: I’d never expect the Grand Magus to fall prey into corruption. In my world, he’s a veteran well-known for his steadfastness. A hero.”

Kyle turned to look at Jetista with a glossy sheen of tears in his eyes he’d been fighting to hold back. “The Khadgar in your timeline. Is…he alive?”

“I don’t know,” the elf said. “I don’t remember much of what had happened after I left Draenor.”

Another moment of awkward silence ensued. As the boy kept tugging nervously at the blue shawl wrapped around his neck, Jetista had been stealing glances at him, secretly in awe of the striking resemblance he bore to Khadgar; especially the eyes, which were as pale and mesmerizing as the ones she’d seen.

“Chromie said you’re my mother’s only surviving alternate,” Kyle finally spoke.

“What else has that dragon told you about me?”

The boy shrugged, hesitant to answer. “Nothing much, really. Just that I shouldn’t expect you to be anything like my mother. And she also said you’re having some sort of an existential crisis?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Jetista muttered, rolling her eyes.

“I…just…don’t understand why you’d want to seclude yourself from your own timeline.”

Jetista was gravely silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. When Chromie told me she’d bring me to you, I didn’t expect–”

“You weren’t expecting to meet a demon? I get it.” Jetista scowled. “And you dare ask why I’m hiding away on this island? No one cared when I went missing. So what difference does it make if I stop existing?!”

Kyle had taken several steps back, shocked by the elf’s sudden burst of anger. He attempted to shield himself from her but struggled to utter the correct words. A slight whimper escaped him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, the tears he could no longer hold back began streaming down his rosy cheeks.

“Look, kid,” Jetista continued, her seething whisper dropped to a low, menacing tone. “I can’t be the mother you lost. I can’t tell you that everything’s going to be okay from now on because that’s not how the world works. Nothing’s going to convince me otherwise. Not you, or Bear. I’m leaving. I’m done. Chromie must have been out of her  _fucking_  mind to think that I’d be capable of taking care of you. You and I should not have met. _You_ do not belong here!”

She had turned to walk away when the boy snapped, “I’m fifteen years of age! I am not a kid! And I don’t need you to be my mother!” Jetista turned to look at Kyle glowering at her while on his knees. “You’re in a world that is still alive and breathing beneath our feet and you don’t even care about that! All you care about is the way you look, what others think of you, your Light-damned vintage boots and designer cloaks!” he yelled between sobs. “But you’re right about one thing: we shouldn’t have met. If I’d stayed and died along with the others in my timeline, at least I wouldn’t have known how much of a demeaning, self-absorbed  _bitch_  you are!”

There was nothing much Jetista could say, or do as she watched Kyle dissolve in a mess of tears and uncontrollable sobs in the middle of the forest. She wanted so much to console the boy but couldn’t even bring herself to rest a hand on his shuddering frame. This was nothing new to her. Centuries of war had desensitized and robbed her of any emotion she would have had upon seeing another grieve.

She’d lost so much, given so much, forgotten so much.

“You kissed your mother with that mouth?” Jetista spoke, now crouching beside Kyle after he’d calmed himself down. He fixed his gaze on the ground, caring not to look at her.

“You're on an island where Time has ceased to exist. Everyone’s guilty of something here, and they don’t mind being forgotten either. It’s just the way it is, kid. Not everyone is born to be a hero. Perhaps you could prove me and the others wrong.”

“Prove what?”

“That we’re not as hopeless as we see ourselves to be.” The glow in Jetista’s eyes softened. “I could really use a reality check, you know. Help me get my shit together.”

Kyle snorted. “Are you always this coarse with your language?”

“I’ve been around pirates all my life. Human pirates. Unfortunately, much of their crass lingo and brutish mannerisms have rubbed off on me.”

“You’re a pirate?”

“Not by choice. Are you hungry?”

Kyle nodded. “Always,” he said with a hint of a smile.

“Good,” Jetista said. She offered a smile of her own and extended a hand to him. “So am I.”


	6. Chapter 6

**vi.**

_Dearest Aethas,_

_You might find relief in knowing that I survived Draenor. I was rescued by Archmage Modera and her brigade of magi enforcers. They infiltrated the Sargerei’s base of operations in Shadowmoon and had found me emaciated and shackled in an Eredar’s torture chamber._

_It has been nearly five months since I made my escape through the portal and I’ve yet to recover from the ordeal. You will not recognise me now, as I am more demon than elven. They have changed me completely and I know not what can be done to reverse this damage._

_You would think that my yearning for vengeance is as dire as it once had been after we lost our kingdom to the Scourge, but all I want is to hide myself away and not be seen again. Truth be told, I cannot live like this. I cannot bear to even look at my own reflection. They made me a monster._

_Consider this an apology for everything I have ever blamed you for. Before leaving Azeroth, that bastard Thalen Songweaver had suppressed and tainted my memories. He saw an opportunity to drive a wedge between us, leading me to believe that you were the reason I am now separated from my child. Gatz’s child._

_Yes, I know what you’re thinking. In my moment of weakness, I had once again succumbed to the human pirate's charms. It was that one night in Dalaran that had changed everything._

_I had kept my pregnancy hidden for as long as I could. Back in Pandaria, I didn’t leave because of some disagreement we had, I left because I know that if you’d known I was carrying, you would have wanted us to be married for the sake of the child. I have had feelings for you--and for so long--brushed aside, unrequited, while you were busy pursuing other women, and men._

_I have come to terms with the fact that you will never want me the way I had once wanted you. What kind of a marriage would we have had if you had wedded me out of pity? We both know you deserve better._

_I named my son Gavriel, after an old friend. You might remember him, a ranger like myself, blonde and bright-eyed, full of energy. It's been decades, but I still blame myself for his untimely death. I know I could have done so much more to save him._

_You need not worry about finding Gavriel, or Bear, as I’m fond of calling him rather than his birth name. I’ve been told by a trusted source that he’d been adopted into a family of engineers in Orgrimmar._

_It wasn't easy accepting the thought of Bear being raised by goblins but I had seen how happy he was with his new family. Besides, we’ve been separated for so long, what memories we shared will no longer be relevant._

_I am no longer relevant._

_Aethas, this shall be my last letter to you before I set sail on the morrow with the Blackwater Raiders. I made a promise to set things right again and find that timestone artifact Gatz had stolen from the Kirin Tor._

_I_ _owe it to your colleague Modera, and the Archmagi of the Council for saving me from further corruption._

_Be well. Know that I will never forget, or stop loving you._

_Yours truly, always and forever,_

_Nessa._


	7. Chapter 7

**vii.**

_Vanessa woke to find herself entangled in a sea of velvet soft sheets, her body bound in fresh bandages. Gone were the shackles on her feet and the heady scent of potions and stale bodily fluids. The bed was hers and hers alone with no Syndicate thug in sight. Instead of broken vials and syringes, there were only tomes scattered on the side of the round bed hovered above a protective circle._

_The glow from the runic inscriptions across the floor was almost blinding, yet she couldn’t resist breathing in the magic permeating her surroundings. This, she could only hope, was a safe place. Away from those vile thugs that had drugged and enslaved her for their own selfish needs._

_As the chamber door creaked open, Vanessa’s eyes gleamed with disbelief at the sight of an elven mage peering cautiously at her._

_She knew him. She knew him well enough to let the relief wash over her like a tidal wave._

_“Aethas!”_

_Despite the pain surging through her body, Vanessa willed herself out of bed, pulling her friend into a desperate embrace before breaking down into wailing sobs._

_He was here now, alive and well, fully attired in his Kirin Tor ensemble, comforting Vanessa with a voice she thought she’d never hear again._

_“All will be well, Nessa,” she heard him whisper. “All will be well.”_

\--

_“The air feels different. Oddly refreshing,” she said over a plate of fruit and poached seafood. Wrapping her fingers around a steaming mug of herbal brew, Vanessa proceeded to close her eyes. Her lips curled ever so slightly as she relished the arcanic atmosphere in the lounge. “Hard to believe we’ve made it this far, amidst of all this chaos and disease, we’re still alive and breathing.“_

_“It did take me a considerable amount of time to get used to Northrend’s climate. You should have seen me when I first arrived here.” Aethas let out a wry chuckle. “The countless hours I’ve spent soaking myself in hot baths. If it weren’t for Modera I would have never left my tub!”_

_Confused, Vanessa merely offered the elven mage a questioning glare._

_“We’re not in Lordaeron anymore, Nessa. Much has happened since we parted ways. With the war against the dragons, the Scourge. I’ve personally pleaded for aid of the magisters in Silvermoon and have yet to receive any kind of support. But I would understand. Their hesitation. Their resentment. And lack of confidence in me. We have lost so many of our people. But seeing you here, with me, has made me…hopeful.”_

_Her appetite had left her a moment ago. She couldn’t even bear to look into Aethas’s gaze. Setting aside her unfinished plate, Vanessa wanted to excuse herself but was held back by Aethas’s gentle grasp around her trembling fist._

_“I know you’ve been through enough,” Aethas continued. “You can live in Dalaran and start anew. Pick up where you left with your studies–”_

_“And what, Aethas? Am I supposed to let them get away with what they’ve done?” she said through clenched teeth. “The Syndicate have no reason to thrive any further. They profit from the suffering of innocents and here I am, being told to leave unfinished business behind and move on?” Vanessa shook her head and snatched her hand away. “I can’t. Not until the last thug has his head on a pike!”_

_\--_

"Jet." Bear's voice called out to the elven woman perched on the roof of the village infirmary. She didn't respond, immersed in deep thought while her gaze searched through the mist for the sea stretching out to the horizon. "Mother. Are you alright?" called the young man again. Then a mere touch on the shoulder was all it took for Jetista to recoil, thinking she'd been seized by the enemy thug from her memories. She turned sharply, hissing, the pointed end of her dagger just inches away from the half-elf's face.

"Whoa. Easy, easy, easy!" Bear stumbled backward, startled by his mother's sudden display of aggression. "It's just me, your firstborn from the future? Bear? Gavriel? Remember me?"

The anger in Jetista's features eased upon seeing her son raising his hands up in surrender. "Of course," the elf muttered apologetically as she withdrew her weapon. "I was just..." Jetista shook her head, her fel-tainted eyes downcast. "For a moment it felt like...I had almost lost my bearings. I forgot who you were."

Bear nodded. He knew what was happening. As a Timewalker, a mortal agent of the Bronze Dragonflight, he'd learn that the island could be anything but ordinary. He'd read the journals the historians had unearthed, written by those lost in the absence of the ebb and flow of Time. It was the essence of their memories, Jetista's memories, that had kept the flora and fauna alive.

He dreaded thinking about the possibility of his beloved mother being... _time-lost_.

"I was waiting for Chromie. She said she'd be here," Jetista said.

"Which Chromie?"

She stared at him, her long brow raised toward her hairline. "You mean there's more than one?"

"Chromie tends to be in a lot of places all at the same time, with more than one version of herself connected to the past, present and future. Not to mention parallel dimensions, alternate worlds, and timelines..."

"So which was the Chromie that had brought me to you and the kid? The Chromie I had retrieved the timestone for."

"I can't be certain. I don't even know which version of Chromie I've been working alongside with all this time..."

Jetista sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well that's helpful," she said, plopping down onto the ledge of the rooftop. The elf seemed much calmer now, allowing Bear to move a tad closer and take a spot next to her. He turned to look at the elf who'd grown quiet while keeping her eyes fixed on the villagers below going about their daily chores. They were oblivious to the half-elven Timewalker and his fel-tainted mother who'd kept themselves hidden behind an invisible shield of magic.

Bear studied Jetista's demonic tattoos glowing fiercely on the exposed skin of her arms and legs. It's foul and heated presence reminded him of a vision he'd seen within the shifting sands of the Bronze's hourglass, of an infernal razing a village (much like the one they were in) to the ground with an explosion of fel energy.

Despite what Jetista had become, she was no puppet of the Legion, but a woman in search of a purpose, with a burning need to protect. He wondered if Chromie had felt the same way about Jetista and Kyle, and if this had been part of the Bronze's plan to bring two grieving souls together to help mend a broken timeway. And somehow, someway a curse on this island would be broken. The forest would no longer thrive on the memories of those overwhelmed with frustration, heartache and despair. 

Bear turned to Jetista with a warm smile. "You know what? Perhaps the timestone is nothing but a blatant excuse," he said. "The Bronze had intended for you and the Blackwater Raiders to be shipwrecked on this island. But what you've yet to realise is that it would take more than just some artifact to get this timeway's biological clock ticking again."

The Timewalker held his mother's hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I suggest you stop waiting on Chromie and begin exploring the possibilities. You may have lost the years you could have spent with me, but I'm here now. We're here now. We've  _found_ each other."

Those words had cut Jetista so deep that she could no longer keep herself from bursting into tears as Bear's tight embrace closed around her. She stayed in his arms and let her heart bleed. Her thoughts drifted to her dead alternate's son Kyle who'd been sleeping the pain and grief away in the infirmary, all alone and vulnerable.

A wave of guilt washed over her. "I'm so ashamed of how I've been treating that kid. I just...could not accept his existence."

"It's not easy. I know," Bear murmured, his lips pressed against his mother's brow. "Being displaced has its own set of problems. But I'm not going to let either of you fade away on this island." 

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Bear. I don't know if I could carry on living like this..."

Bear could feel his mother's tears seeping into the fabric of his tabard. "Promise me you'll fight to keep your memories of us intact. Promise me you'll never let this island forget who you are, and me."

Jetista slowly pulled away, her eyes shifting to meet with Bear's. And just like that, the former ranger felt the hope she thought had died swelling up inside her.

"Our memories. Our future," Jetista spoke, her voice wavering slightly as she placed a hand over her broken heart. "I will guard them with my life."


	8. Chapter 8

**viii.**

Fifteen years ago.

_Disguising as a male sailor aboard a pirate ship lasted well over a week, until they ventured further out to sea, cut off from the arcanic energies that had sustained her since birth. Deprived and weakened, a dwarven cook named Deeg had dragged her out by her long raven locks onto the main deck, the brightness of daylight blinding her vision as she squirmed helplessly within his grasp._

_The sailors, mostly humans, looked on curiously. But only one stood out from the rest. One man, despite seeing double, she had sensed to be a benevolent soul._

_“Jom non-ou Gaspar. Sa’ ki non-ou?”_

_It was a strange language previously unheard of by elven ears. She caught the human’s stifled amusement reacting to her confused expression and said nothing._

_The pirate started again, this time in Common: “I just wanted to know your name.”_

_“Vanessa.” Not a moment of hesitance, as though she had been prepared to surrender her entire being to him. He was no mage, yet the elf could not resist leaning into his aura. She needed to feel the magic oozing out of_ him, _if only to sate the nagging pangs of addiction._

_The man steadied the elf by placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “Gaspar,” he reiterated. “But everyone here calls me Gatz; Quartermaster of the Brashtide. My crew and I are curious as to why you’ve chosen to sail with us. Are you looking for work?”_

_Instead of words, she could only manage to spew a mix of bile and undigested food over the freshly swabbed decks, eliciting murmurs of disgust from the sailors. The commotion had attracted the attention of Captain Bruce Callows who seemed more than eager to feed their elven stowaway to the sharks._

_“I have no use for a dying elf on my ship. Disobey my orders again and I’ll have you booted off as well. Get her out of my sight!”_

_To the disgruntled captain of the Brashtide, she was a bad omen. And they were all destined to be cursed by her presence. Vanessa was convinced this was where her life would end: In the middle of the Great Sea, condemned by pirates and left to burn in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun._

_Then, to her surprise, she’d gained her consciousness and found herself wrapped in a blanket. It wasn’t the sun that was making her sweat profusely but the warmth of a bonfire someone had built–somewhere–on an island. But where exactly?_

_A_   _gryphon lay perched on the rocks looming over her head, and the human Gaspar was there too, seated several inches away while busying himself with unloading rations and bottles of ale from his rucksack. She looked to the waves crashing violently onto the shore. In a distance, she spotted the Brashtide sailing into the sunset._

_"You could have killed me when you had the chance.” The elf’s voice had come out weak and shaky she could hardly believe it was her own._

_“You're not a threat to_ _begin with,” said Gaspar without so much as a glance._

_“I believe no one has ever been as kind as you are to me. Why?”_

_There was a slight pause before the human finally shifted his attention toward her, a handsome smile played at his lips as he spoke, “Once I was a Kul Tiras Marine battling against the orcs during the Second War. My ship was attacked by dragons. We were stranded in the ocean for weeks until your people came to our rescue. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the elves. Keeping you alive is my way of paying it forward.”_

_Gaspar rose to his feet and hollered for his ride. He continued, “You’ll be safe here as you’re close to the busiest route in the Great Sea. Keep the fire burning and you’re bound to be noticed by a passing ship, hopefully, captained and crewed by your kind.“_

_Vanessa shook her head, her eyes fixed on the pirate as he mounted the gryphon. She couldn’t go back to Silvermoon. Not after what she’d done._

_“I can’t,” the elf whimpered and did her best to hold back the tears pooling in her eyes. “Please, sir. Take me with you. I can work. I can do whatever you want me to do. Don’t leave me here.”_

_"I’m sorry. Captain’s orders. I don’t know who or what you’re running away from but I do hope you’ll survive. Wherever you end up, I pray to the spirits we’ll meet again.”_

_The beating of the gryphon’s wings stirred the fine sand into a cloud of dust. Gaspar then bade her farewell in a language she could not understand and_ _took off into the darkened sky._

_“No. Don’t go. Please don’t go.” Staggering toward the shore, Vanessa dropped to her knees, her pleading cries for Gaspar consumed by the deep roar of the ocean._

Doomed _, the words of Bruce Callows, Captain of the Brashtide, rang in her head as she slept restlessly by the bonfire that night._ We are all cursed _._


End file.
